Champions: Uncharted Territory
by LadyDeb1970
Summary: Sixth in the Champions series: As refugees from the Balrog attacks filter into Campbell, Boromir continues his courting of Megan. Meanwhile, the heirs of Durin move forward with their new lives.
1. Chapter 1: A Question of Creativity

Author's Notes: You can thank _San Andreas_ and Dwayne Johnson for this. I went to see _San Andreas_ shortly after posting the final chapter of _Champions: First Strike_ , with the sole intention of enjoying the movie (I have a weakness for disaster movies … not just the mayhem and general destruction, but the idea of rising like a phoenix from the ashes). Much to my astonishment, I received inspiration in the form of Archie Panjabi, who plays television reporter Serena in the movie … years after first introducing her, I finally had my mental image of Campbell business owner Parminder 'Mindy' Goyal Rossetti. A widow who opened Mindy's Morsels, a bakery café that showcased the pottery and art work of local artists, Mindy will also be Kili's lady once the Durins and Company arrive. I'm also seriously thinking about pairing her twin sister Devani with the reincarnation of Dwalin … Devani is 'played' by the incredible Indira Varma. Once Mindy was identified, I also had Boromir's courtship of Megan falling into place. It also gave me a jumping off point for Bronwyn and the Starling City survivors to arrive in town. I don't anticipate this story being any more than two or three chapters, and it may or may not end with Boromir and Megan's marriage. That will depend on them. So. Get ready for a funny, serious, romantic, heart-wrenching (I hope, on all four counts) story.

Disclaimer: Boromir, Legolas, Haldir, Thorin, Fili and Kili don't belong to me. Dwalin, Balin, Aragorn, Arwen, Bilbo, Sam, Frodo, Denethor and Sauron also don't belong to me (however, their reincarnations do) … they are all the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. Malcolm Merlyn, Tommy Merlyn, Thea Queen/Merlyn, Oliver Queen, and Felicity Smoak also don't belong to me … they belong to DC Comics and the CW. Everyone else belongs to me, including the town of Campbell itself. Don't mind if you borrow them, just please ask first.

Chapter One

A Question of Creativity

Campbell, North Carolina

Four Days after the Starling City attack

She was eighteen years old when she joined her twin sister in the States … eighteen years old and so full of dreams. She wanted to fall in love with a wonderful man, she wanted to go to college, she wanted to open her own business. Ten years later, she'd made the most important dream come true. Mindy's Morsels, which was not only open, but making a nice profit. Of course, that entailed sacrifices, but they were worth it. Now, she was receiving the most important review in her life, the opinion of the person who meant the most to her.

Parminder Goyal Rossetti took a deep breath before turning to face her older (by twelve minutes) sister. Devani, in the mean time, was still turning slowly in a circle, taking in everything … the décor, the pastries on display, the tables set up, and even the pieces of pottery from local potters. She'd been trying to convince the few blacksmiths in the area to submit some of their pieces as well, but as of yet, she'd not been successful. She'd keep trying, though … that was what she did. She always kept trying, and she never gave up.

It took all of her self-control to keep from demanding what Devani thought. Her sister would tell her when she was ready and not a deco-second before. At last, her patience paid off when her older sister turned to face her and inclined her head with a small smile, murmuring, "Good work, little sister. I _am_ impressed." Mindy couldn't help herself, giving a little jump of excitement before rushing into her twin's arms. Devani laughed outright, the first time Mindy heard her sister laugh in entirely too long.

More would have been said, but it was then that a ginormous caravan rolled its way down the streets of Campbell. Devani swore under her breath, and Mindy frowned, saying, "That looks like it's stopping here." She cast a quick eye around, to make sure she would have enough. Considering how huge it was … well, she would worry about that when it became necessary. The door to the caravan opened, and Mindy's eyes widened when she saw Carey Rafferty leading several people into her little café. She knew, of course, about Carey Rafferty and her tie to Detective Rafferty … and by now, everyone in town knew that Gavin Rafferty was actually Detective Rafferty's older brother. It seemed that a few of her customers had suspicions, but events during the last month proved that.

Mindy generally avoided gossip, but Michael, the really cute amnesiac who Detective Rafferty took in, was courting her and often came into Mindy's Morsels for pastries and cakes. Mindy thought it was sweet and romantic, and helped out the blond man where she could. He admitted that he was 'speed-courting,' and they were planning to be married in the next few weeks. Mindy pointed out to him that they were speed courting and creative courting. That made him laugh and he asked her if she could make things specially. Well, of course she could!

He admitted that he'd been doing research about courting rituals on the internet, but dismissed most of them as too impractical (especially arranging for someone to serenade Detective Rafferty outside the police station. He didn't think that her co-workers or Captain Anders would appreciate that too terribly much. Mindy was inclined to agree). And now, here was Michael's soon-to-be sister-in-law. She offered Mindy a tired smile, observing, "Sorry to come in unannounced, Mindy, but I know my little sister won't have enough food, and I wanted to get everyone fed before we descended upon her. I've got four refugees from Starling City in here, in addition to some others, who could use some comfort food."

"Of course, bring them in," Mindy said immediately. Of course she knew about the horrific attacks in Starling City … most of what was coming out of the Pacific Northwest didn't make a bit of sense, but she knew that the city was completely destroyed and that the survivors were going to anyone who would take them in. This was the first she heard, though, of people coming this far east. Carey smiled at her wearily, and then … well. That was unexpected. Mindy glanced at her sister, who merely smiled and nodded. Really. She had the best twin in the world. Devani was already in motion as a vaguely familiar redhead guided a young teenage girl, no more than thirteen or fourteen years of age, into the café.

"How does a hot cocoa sound, little one?" Devani asked as she helped the redhead steer the girl to a seat. Her head bobbed, and Devani went on, "No, two hot cocoas coming up, and I think I have some spare shoes for you. But that can wait … you look like someone who loves cinnamon rolls, how far off base am I?" The girl offered a weak smile, and the redhead nodded quickly, her arm never leaving the girl's shoulders. Devani touched the youngster's cheek, and then immediately went to prepare the cocoa. With the obviously shaken teen being cared for by her sister, Mindy turned her attention to the other child … another young girl, who looked to be ten or eleven years of age. She was being carried by a young man, who looked as shell-shocked as the teenage girl.

Carey Rafferty said softly, guiding the boy to one of the overstuffed recliners Mindy placed at the front of the café, "C'mon, Ollie, you can relax now … you're safe." The boy collapsed numbly into the recliner, and Carey asked, turning her attention to Mindy, "Could you use an extra set of hands? I know it's just you and your sister right now." Ordinarily, Mindy would have said ' _no_ ,' but her instincts told her that just like a cinnamon roll and hot cocoa was what the teenage girl needed, Carey Rafferty needed to help.

"Of course … you know the entire party and what they would like. I'll show you where to find things. Are there more men in the party?" Mindy asked, and Carey nodded. Mindy went on, "If they are able, I have some trash that needs to be taken, along with recycling." Her eyes widened as several tall, handsome men entered, and … was that Malcolm Merlyn? Mindy swallowed hard, because she studied the handsome widower who ran Merlyn Global in Starling City while she was creating her business plan. It was! Never mind that now, she had to work to do. But when this was settled, she had a lot of questions to be answered!

LOTRLOTRLOTRLOTR

Well, this was a definite improvement over his first introduction to the dwarves! Dunstan Holley, once known as Bilbo Baggins, followed the reincarnated (and enhanced) dwarves into the charmingly-named Mindy's Morsels. He closed his eyes as the various smells of the café washed over him … oh, here was a place that a hobbit would love. And Thorin was quietly directing his two (dwarven) nephews to assist the proprietress in whatever way deemed necessary, making himself available as well. Tommy, in the meantime, was watching over Oliver and Thea Queen, even offering to let Thea sit in his lap so Oliver could eat.

And Malcolm … true to form, he prowled around the café, checking every exit and window, making sure that the café was secure. Dunstan noticed that the young proprietress was watching him with an odd combination of wariness and hero worship, but she didn't let that get in the way of taking care of her customers. That was good. The Queen children and young Felicity Smoak especially needed the care. Felicity had watched her mother die when the Balrog attacked Starling City, and the Queen siblings saw their parents die right in front of them. And now, their housekeeper and surrogate mother Raisa was growing weaker by the hour.

They had met up at the Raleigh-Durham International Airport, where Malcolm had his jet diverted once he received the call from Bronwyn Harris, the lovely ginger who was even now taking care of Felicity. Malcolm's jet remained at the airport, while they joined the Starling City refugees aboard the caravan. During the drive from Raleigh to Campbell, a shell-shocked Oliver Queen briefed them on what happened to his parents, while Bronwyn drove. They knew, of course, about the Balrog attack. But what he had to tell them was their journey across country. Things had been fine for the first few days as they headed up into Canada, to get away from the Balrog. It was while they were heading back south that new attacks took place.

Dunstan always heard that there were only seven Balrogs … and really, one was more than enough. However, it turned out that there were actually thousands of them, and they had been sleeping for thirty thousand years, all over the globe. Some were here in North America, others in other parts of the globe, and it appeared Sauron's old minions were waking them up. That was what happened to the Starling City refugees. They'd stopped to buy supplies in West Virginia, and a Balrog awakening caused what felt like an earthquake. Robert Queen was killed in the initial attack, while Moira Queen succumbed to her injuries later that day, and Raisa … it was unlikely that Raisa would last the night.

Bilbo had never seen a Balrog, but it was telling to Dunstan that Elves and Dwarves feared them. After hearing Oliver's story, Dunstan could understand why. Poor Felicity couldn't bear for Bronwyn to be out of her sight, and Thea wouldn't leave her brother's side … not that he seemed to mind that. Right now, Tommy Merlyn was looking after both his long-time best friend, and the little sister they shared. Yes … Bronwyn Harris told them that the second to last thing Moira Queen said was that Malcolm Merlyn was Thea's biological father (the last thing she said was ' _I love you_ ' to her children).

And now, they were in Campbell, as they intended to be, but a few weeks ahead of schedule. It was always their intention to return to Campbell, once Carey learned that her younger sister Megan (a police detective) was getting married. To make things even more interesting, he learned from Malcolm's closest friend that there were several reincarnates living here … including the reincarnation of Bilbo's beloved cousin/nephew/surrogate son, Frodo, and his dearest companion, Samwise Gamgee. In one of those twists of fate that Bilbo would have loved, Sam and Frodo were reborn as father and son, and the reborn Sam was mayor … again.

Malcolm made the mistake of asking how she knew all this, since she wasn't a reincarnate. Carey just smirked and informed that her father and older brother were both reincarnates, something she learned when her father called her to let her know that Megan was getting married. That was when they learned another pertinent fact. Thorin, Kili, and Fili weren't the only Middle-earth denizens who were brought forward in time … so was Boromir of Gondor. And it was Boromir of Gondor (now called Michael) who was marrying Megan.

Naturally, Tommy wanted to know about the other reincarnates, even though it wouldn't mean anything to him. His father was the reincarnation of Frerin, yes, but Frerin died many years before the War of the Ring. Even so, he was interested in hearing about what to expect once they reached Campbell. The dark-haired woman explained that her older brother Gavin was the reincarnation of Aragorn. Dwalin reborn (Skender) nodded, observing that he remembered Aragorn's coronation. Carey smirked again and dropped a bombshell.

Dunstan had known, of course, that Gimli was among the Nine … the son of his friend Gloin, one of their companions in the Company. What he hadn't known was that a) Gimli's reincarnation was a healer like Gimli's uncle Oin in the Third Age and b) he was chiefly responsible for Boromir surviving as long as he did once he arrived in the present age. Thorin sounded pleased by this revelation, and the boys were ecstatic that they would be seeing their dear friend again. Carey confided in Dunstan that she didn't have the heart to tell them that the young dwarf they remembered was now a Man in his late middle age. They would find out soon enough. Probably sooner than even Carey realized, with the way things had been going.

"Mindy, I've called my sister … she and her partner will be here shortly, along with their captain," Carey observed, returning to the storm. Mindy Rossetti, as she'd introduced herself, nodded from behind the counter where she'd been making a cappuccino for Tommy. Mindy's sister, Devani, was fussing over Gemma Rafferty. Although, in truth, Dunstan wasn't sure if she was fussing over Gemma … or over Skender, whose lap Gemma was seated in at the moment. He saw the way the pretty, dark-haired woman looked at him. Skender, on the other hand, seemed clueless. But if the reincarnation of Dwalin was clueless, Thorin certainly wasn't. Dunstan could see it in his expression, and just knew that Thorin would be teasing him about it later. And if he didn't, Balin would be!

"Thanks for warning me … Devani, could you keep an eye on things for me out here? I need to put something away. Detective Rafferty's fiancé enlisted my aid in courting her. Although, I always thought the courting came before the marriage proposal," Mindy requested. Devani looked away from her fussing just long enough to nod, and Dunstan raised his brows questioningly. Well, that was interesting. Carey just smirked, but said nothing as Mindy picked up something and headed into the store room.

Dunstan sat down beside Thorin, asking softly in Westron, "So, what do you think?" While Thorin was making excellent progress with both English and Romanian, Dunstan always started conversations in Westron, as he noticed that Thorin unconsciously switched to English as he relaxed. He found himself on the receiving end of a ' _what do you mean_ ' look from the dwarf, and Dunstan pushed forward, "Of this time, of this place, of the changes in your life during the last month. That's a good start, at least."

"I like the town very much, from what I've seen of it. It matters little what I think of the time, as I am alive … the same is true of my thoughts on the changes during the last month. What does concern me is the Balrogs," Thorin answered, turning the conversation to the many attacks by Balrogs during the last few weeks. Dunstan grimaced and Thorin added, "Too, I am anxious about meeting with this Slade Wilson. I cannot imagine a reincarnation of Azog who seeks to protect. I believe you, and my brother, but …"

"But after what Azog did to you and to your family, I would be more surprised if you found it easy to trust him. I don't blame you, Thorin," Dunstan answered. That was actually one reason why Malcolm would be meeting with Slade Wilson … while Frerin remembered the battle, he was already dead when Azog decapitated his grandfather. Thorin, though, was very much alive and remembered Thror's death in painful clarity. Just as he remembered Fili's death at the hands of the Orc, and too many other things.

"I do, however. I have seen that reincarnations are not necessarily the same individuals they were during that lifetime. You have told me that Slade Wilson is a good man, and my brother has told me the same. I believe you. But …" Thorin began, before shaking his head. Dunstan hesitantly put his hand on Thorin's shoulder, because really, what could he say? There was nothing to be said. Besides, Slade was worried about the meeting as well. Azog had a nasty habit of inflicting severe pain on him when he was displeased about something. And Slade being even civil to Thorin was likely to enrage the Defiler.

The former dwarf king smiled gently as Devani placed a cappuccino in front of him and murmured in halting English, "Thank you, my lady. My nephews are quite fond of this beverage. I look forward to trying it." The young woman blushed and ducked her head, a small smile playing about her lips, before turning her attention back to Dwalin. Dunstan shook his head, because who would have thought that Thorin Oakenshield could be such a charmer? He wondered if it was because the pressure of his first life was gone … whatever the reason, he intended to enjoy the time he had with this more relaxed version of Thorin Oakenshield.

LOTRLOTRLOTRLOTR

In his first life, he had been a warrior, the Captain-General of Gondor's Army. His entire focus was on protecting his City, his people. He had no time, no interest in romance or in courting. And now, he was paying for that inattention. Although, in truth, even if he had paid attention to courting during that first life, he would still be woefully unprepared for courting in this time and place. He wasn't satisfied with dating (although he liked the idea of taking Megan on a date), and the courting rituals he encountered on the internet gave him a horrible headache.

Serenading Megan while she was working? Out of the question. Love tokens and gifts? That was something he was far more comfortable with. One of the first things he learned when first he came to live with Megan was that she had little time to cook or bake … and that she had something of a sweet tooth. When he made this observation to Gavin, his old/new friend's eyes gleamed, and he observed that Boromir had his first courting gift. That was when he led Boromir to Mindy's Morsels and introduced him to the proprietress, Mindy Goyal Rossetti.

Mindy was a widow who took up baking in the weeks after her husband's death, as a way to cope with her grief … her emptiness. She also told Boromir something very interesting while they were talking about courting. According to Mindy, she and her late husband Justin actually courted each other before they got married. That was filed away to be dealt with at a later time. Right now, he was far more interested in taking care of Megan, since she'd spent the better part of a year taking care of him.

It was also Mindy who encouraged him not to pay attention to the courting rituals of the past, and instead, create his own. After all, Megan wasn't a woman of the Victorian era, and he really didn't appreciate the idea of being unable to touch her. They often held hands while watching movies, especially after Jason and Natalie Wellington were rescued … held hands, Megan's head resting against his shoulder.

So. The sweets were delivered to the police station, and Boromir asked Mindy to ensure that there was enough for everyone. She smiled at him, saying that was a nice touch. So. Food was handled. Gavin promised to take him to a flea market this coming weekend to get some love tokens (maybe some vintage jewelry?) for Megan. That left … flowers? Boromir tapped his lip thoughtfully. Megan liked flowers well enough, but she was never one to have flowers in the apartment, or plants of any kind. He would have to come back to that.

A knock at the door alerted him to company, and Boromir promised himself that he'd come back to this. He wasn't sure who was there, but he could use the break. And when he opened the door to find Brendan Farrell on the other side, he was glad he did. Over the last few weeks, ever since the rescue of Natalie and Jason Wellington, Boromir and Brendan met at least once a week. Sometimes they talked … Brendan telling him about what Frodo and Sam encountered once the Fellowship split up … other times, they just sat and watched tv. Or, as Brendan put it, ' _just hung out_.' Boromir still wasn't sure what ' _hanging out_ ' really entailed, but Gavin told him that it meant just about anything. Sitting around talking, watching movies, even going to the park and feeding the ducks constituted hanging out.

"Figured you could use a break from Operation Courting," Brendan said cheerfully, holding up a bag. A whiff told Boromir that it was chicken tenders or chicken nuggets, something he developed a taste for once his system adjusted to the modern era. Even so, he still had a weakness for corndogs and probably always would. Boromir steered the boy to the kitchen table where he and Megan usually ate, then removed plates from the cabinet. Brendan continued as he laid out the napkins, "Things have changed in my house since Dad admitted to remembering the past. We talk about being Frodo and Sam … I have to laugh, because Sam always took care of Frodo in that life. His job hasn't changed at all."

Boromir chuckled at that, replying, "If I ever knew Sam, he minds that not at all." Brendan laughed as he divided the tenders between their two plates, and Boromir decided to ask the question that was on his mind since the remainder of his memories returned, "Have you encountered Faramir's reincarnation?" Brendan sighed and shook his head. Boromir fought back the disappointment he felt … after all, he had so much, including a version of his father that didn't carry the same burdens Denethor did in his life time. But … he still missed his little brother. He wondered what Faramir would make of his intended bride and smiled to himself, imagining two heads put together, making common cause against him.

"No … but that doesn't mean anything, Boromir. It doesn't mean that he isn't here, in this time, it just means that I haven't met him yet. And remember, I'm still pretty young among humans. That was rather odd, remembering my life as a hobbit. That actually sounds like a book title, doesn't it? My life as a hobbit," Brendan observed with a mischievous smile. His blue eyes twinkled and, Boromir had to laugh at the youngster. Brendan continued thoughtfully, "I've not found Uncle Bilbo, either. They're out there, though, Boromir … they're out there and when it's time, we'll find them, or they'll find us."

"You've grown very philosophical," Boromir observed, and Brendan shrugged, popping a piece of chicken into his mouth. Then again, Frodo lived in this boy's memories … he was the very definition of an old soul, as Megan once explained to him. Boromir asked after a moment, "What was the hardest thing for you, when you regained your memories of being Frodo?" Brendan chewed thoughtfully … and when he spoke, the answer was unexpected.

"Realizing that I'd already lived through one war, and still had a hard time dealing with death," Brendan answered slowly. Boromir blinked in astonishment, a piece of chicken halfway to his mouth. Brendan went on, "I think you've heard from Megan and Elena about the girl who was killed just before you were found? Bethany? She … she was a friend of mine, and there was no reason for her death. It was totally senseless and … it was hard for me to accept. Even after the senseless death during the War of the Ring, I still …"

He broke off, blinking back tears. Boromir set down his piece of chicken and reached over to squeeze the boy's shoulder. Brendan whispered, "She was my friend, Boromir, and that piece of shit murdered her because he could … he tortured her and he murdered her. She died alone and afraid and in pain, and I know I'm supposed to forgive him for that, but I can't. And I hate him for that. I hate him so much, and that scares me."

There was naught Boromir could say to that, so he said nothing. Instead, he scooted his chair closer to Brendan's and pulled the boy into his arms. Brendan clung to him, shaking with grief and Boromir whispered, "You were never a soldier, Brendan. You were never meant to be a soldier. I was a soldier my entire life, but I can tell you now that were it my Megan who died in such a way, at the hands of a monster, my rage would know no bounds. You are not weak to feel as you do. Never think that."

"I could have loved her, Boromir … the way you love Megan, and now we'll never get that chance, and I hate him for that as much as anything," Brendan choked out, his voice muffled by Boromir's shirt. With those words, things clicked into place for the time-relocated Gondorian captain-general. Ever since Boromir reconnected with the other members of the Fellowship, Brendan took an active interest in helping Boromir to court Megan. Boromir closed his eyes and held the boy tighter. Nothing would be solved here and now … but it wasn't about solving things. Despite what both Gavin/Aragorn had told him, despite the words of both Farrells, Boromir still hadn't entirely forgiven himself for falling to the Ring's seduction. But maybe, by being the friend Brendan needed him to be right now, he could begin atoning for that. And if, in the process of doing that, the youngster helped him to court Megan, well, so much the better.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2: Practical Matters

Author's Notes: The most challenging part of this chapter? Figuring out how to dress Thorin. The boys were easy … I see them diving in headfirst with jeans and t-shirts, especially with Tommy guiding them. Thorin, however, has proven a wee bit more tricky. Although the idea of Thorin in jeans and a t-shirt is mouth-watering, I just don't see him being comfortable dressed like that. It's bad enough that he has no leathers or armor of any kind. I had a breakthrough, however, when my family went to a fundraiser at a local Applebee's, hosted by Rolling Thunder for Wreaths Across America … and I had my look for Thorin as he transitions into the twenty-first century. Details to follow in the chapter itself, for Thorin and the boys. Oh, and I know it's a bit confusing … the twenty-first century people will be addressing the reincarnates by their current names, while the reincarnates and newcomers from Middle-earth will be addressing people by the names they knew them by. In this chapter, practical matters become the top priority; Lydia's father hears a voice he never thought he would hear again; while Dis finally makes her appearance. I also want to take this opportunity to honor the memory of Sir Christopher Lee, whose death last week left many bereft. I never met Christopher Lee … never had the opportunity, but what I know of him, I greatly respect. Here was a man who was married to the same woman for more than forty years … who served his country when it most needed him. He played so many iconic roles through his careers and was kicking ass all the way to the end (who can forget the battles between Gandalf and Saruman). Rest in peace, Sir Christopher … and enjoy your reunions with your best friend Peter Cushing, as well as with JRR Tolkien.

Chapter Two

Practical Matters

Campbell, North Carolina

Same Day

"Okay, at the risk of throwing a damper on things … where, exactly, are we staying tonight? Or any other night, come to that? Because staying with either of my sisters is out of the question and so is staying with my father and step-mother."

The surprise wasn't the question or even who was asking it (Carey), but how long it took before it was asked. Bronwyn Harris tightened her grasp on Felicity, who leaned into her tiredly. She pressed a light kiss to the top of the brown hair, wondering when, exactly, she started turning into a mother. The answer, of course, was that she hadn't, not really … but she was the closest thing Felicity had to a mother right now. Bron wasn't sure if she'd ever truly forgive herself for not being able to save Donna … oh, in her mind she knew that there was nothing more she could have done. It wasn't so easy to convince her heart of that, though.

"We can stay in the yacht on wheels," Oliver pointed out, his sister more asleep than awake in his arms. Bron grinned and Oliver shrugged, observing, "What can I tell you, it's catchy." There was a soft rumble of laughter from Thorin Oakenshield, and Oliver blushed, ducking his head as he added, "At least we got Raisa to a doctor. I just … maybe one of us should have stayed with her. Just …" Just in case she died in the night, surrounded by strangers rather than by the children she loved and spent so many years caring for.

Bronwyn didn't have the heart to point out to the young man that Raisa was in so much pain right now, it probably wouldn't have registered with her that someone was there. Besides, she had no way of knowing what Raisa knew and what she didn't know. Malcolm Merlyn said softly from his position at the counter, "I know you want to be there for her, Oliver … but I think she'd truly prefer it this way." Oliver looked up at his best friend's father, and the businessman explained, "I don't think she'd want either of you to see her like this. In her position, I'd want Tommy as far away as possible."

Tommy snorted at that, firing back, "Good luck with that, Pops … don't forget, I didn't just inherit your stubborn streak; I also inherited Mom's." Bron didn't know how long Rebecca Merlyn had been dead, but her husband and son could talk about her without visible grief. Malcolm responded with a slight smile, though his eyes reflected amusement, and Tommy turned his attention to his 'uncle,' observing in Westron (and who taught him that?), "How are those clothes feeling, Uncle Thorin? I know they're not what you're used to, but you'd raise more than a few eyebrows if you were running around looking like a Renaissance Faire reject. I still wish you'd let me cut your hair."

Mindy and her sister looked at each other, as if asking if the other knew what was being said, and Malcolm said softly as explanation, "It's an ancient language, long forgotten. I taught it to my son to be used in the family, but sometimes he uses it in front of others." Tommy stuck his tongue out at his father, and Malcolm just rolled his eyes. He continued in English for the sake of those who didn't know Westron, looking over at the resurrected dwarf king, "But, Tommy raises a good question. How do the new clothes feel? I know better than to touch your hair."

"Acceptable," was the one word response, and this time, it was Tommy who rolled his eyes in exasperation. Well, Bron was glad that he found the clothes acceptable … she thought he looked more than acceptable, she thought he was damn gorgeous! He continued to wear his hair long, though pulled back with a leather strap, and he hadn't let his beard grow out according to dwarven custom. Drawing on Arwen's memories of Gimli and his family, Bron sensed that there was a reason for that. And those reasons, at least for now, were his own. In halting English, Thorin asked, "May I have more?" He inclined his head to the crumbs of what had been a pastry on his plate, looking from Mindy Rossetti to his brother. Why would he … unless he was asking about the customs?

It was on the tip of Bron's tongue to offer to pay for whatever he had, when Mindy said briskly, "Of course you may. The same kind?" Thorin inclined his head with a small smile, and Bron was quietly amused at the way Mindy seemed to swallow hard. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who had her breath taken away by Thorin's beauty. Carey Rafferty cleared her throat, drawing all attention back to her as Mindy carefully took the plate from Thorin's hand and returned to the kitchen.

"We still need to decide where to stay. Oliver, I appreciate the offer, but you can't tell me that you're not tired of seeing the inside of that motorhome," she observed and the young man ducked his head, as if unwilling to admit such a thing. Bron glowered at her … her point was good, they were all ready to sleep in a room, even it if was in a hotel, but still! Her delivery needed some work. Carey shot her a hard glare, but continued in a much gentler voice, "It's not being disloyal, and I'm not suggesting that you abandon it. But you need to sleep in a real bed, in a real room. The time for camping is over."

She probably would have said more, but the door opened once more … this time, admitting Captain Lydia Anders and the two young detectives who caught that piece of shit, Dalton Robeson the previous year. Carey's face lit up at the sight of her younger sister, but it was Gemma who flew out of Skender Petrescu's lap and into the arms of her aunt. Detective Rafferty beamed as she hugged her niece, smiling brightly at her older sister, who beamed right back. She said, "Excellent timing … we were just talking about where we would stay."

"I can help with that, Carey … when we heard that you'd arrived, I called the mayor. You'll all be staying with his mother. She has a big house, with plenty of room with everyone. As soon as you're ready, we'll head to the Farrell place. But for now … can you direct me to Thorin Oakenshield?" Captain Anders requested. Carey frowned a bit as she stepped forward to smush both her sister and daughter in a fierce hug, while Kili and Fili shifted closer to their uncle. Uhm, how did she know Thorin's name?

"I am he," the dwarf rumbled. Captain Anders actually blinked as she looked at Thorin, who rose to his feet. Kili and Fili did the same, stepping even closer to him in an obviously protective move. And Malcolm was angling his body to protect his brother if necessary. Bron knew that Anders could be a hard-ass, but surely this wasn't necessary? Thorin ignored it all and returned the police captain's gaze unwaveringly as he continued, "And you are, my lady?"

That was when Lydia Anders blew everyone's mind. She took several steps forward until she was standing in front of Thorin … and then dropped to one knee before him, bowing her head. Both Megan Rafferty and Elena Gutierrez were staring in shock. Thorin himself looked somewhat startled and looked over the kneeling police captain at the reincarnation of his brother, but Malcolm looked as confused as the two detectives. And then, Lydia Anders cleared up the mystery (as well as blew everyone's mind) by speaking in a language that the three Durins clearly understood. A glance around told Bron that some of the others who arrived with them understood it as well. Thorin hoarsely answered in the same language, and then leaned forward to assist the woman to her feet. What the hell just happened?!

LOTRLOTRLOTRLOTR

When Rafferty got the call from her older sister, telling her that she was in Campbell with company, Lydia Anders' first move was to contact Tom Farrell. Cities and towns all over the country (and in Canada) were taking in refugees and survivors from the Balrog attacks, so she knew that housing would be necessary, as the hotels were quickly filling up. True, most of the first refugees were taking shelter in the immediate environs around Starling City and the Pacific Northwest, but there were also victims from later attacks … such as the one in West Virginia only a few days earlier.

It was during the drive over that she learned the identities of the newcomers (while Gutierrez wasn't teasing Rafferty relentlessly about shot-gun weddings, that is … up until Rafferty turned the tables on her and started teasing her about the time she'd been spending with Haldir lately). Oh, it didn't mean anything to Rafferty or to Gutierrez … the names of Thorin, Kili, and Fili. But those names, all three of those names, meant plenty to her. And even if it hadn't, she would have still known that the trio wasn't From Around Here. Lydia had to give them points for trying, but the two dark-haired men and the blond man were clearly not yet fitting in. The two boys were dressed in jeans and hoodies, with the hoods pushed back, but she noticed them both fidgeting, as if not completely comfortable with the clothes they wore.

And Thorin … she had the sense that he would stand out, no matter what he was wearing. He was a ridiculously handsome man, even if it was jarring to see him standing well over six feet tall. She didn't know what happened, but this was clearly not a reincarnate. This was Thorin Oakenshield himself, alive and breathing some thirty thousand years after the catastrophic battle that took his life and the lives of his two nephews. His long black hair was pulled back into a tie of some kind, and his beard remained short. As the daughter of a reincarnated dwarf, Lydia knew that it had nothing to do with fashion, and everything to do with grief or shame. Maybe both in Thorin's case. His clothes were a blend of modern and the past … a plain white shirt was tucked inside black leather trousers (motorcycle pants?) and a black leather vest completed the outfit. And was that … Lydia's eyes widened when she realized it was in the same style as the Rolling Thunder vests. Nor was she surprised when she noted the black lace-up boots he wore. As her daughter would have said, the man was definitely drool-worthy.

But that wasn't what caused her to take her next actions. After she confirmed that the tall, black-haired man was, indeed, Thorin Oakenshield, Lydia was at a loss of how to proceed. How exactly did you approach a resurrected king? It was then that she remembered a conversation she had with her father, not long after his memories of being Bombur surfaced. He told her such stories of the quest for Erebor, and the days that followed. Those were the days when she believed that being nice was the same thing as being good. And if you weren't nice, you weren't good. She'd been very young at the time … so painfully young.

But her father told her that wasn't the case … and sometimes, in unusual cases, nice people weren't necessarily good. He continued in a far off voice that he regarded Thorin Oakenshield as a king worth fighting for and worth dying for, because he would have done the same for any of their company. Lydia asked what he meant and her father told her that Thorin risked his life to save others on so many occasions. He wasn't nice all the time, but he did have kindness in his soul. He'd touched her cheek then, murmuring, "We're Americans, sweet girl. We kneel before no one. But Thorin Oakenshield? If I were to find him again, I would kneel before him."

Standing before the man himself now, she could understand it. She'd only just met him, but could see what he meant. She could see it in the way his nephews stepped closer to him, in the way the Starling City businessman Malcolm Merlyn angled his body, as if to protect him. The other two men, whom she didn't recognize (but her father probably would have) didn't make a move, but did watch her warily. Calling upon the Khuzdul her father taught her, Lydia dropped to one knee and bowed her head, telling the dwarf king, "Welcome to Campbell, your Majesty. I am Lydia, daughter of Elliott, and the head of the guard in this settlement."

There was a brief silence, leaving Lydia to wonder if she'd gotten the words wrong. But then, Thorin Oakenshield said hoarsely in the same language, "Thank you for your welcome, Lydia daughter of Elliott. Dare I hope that you are similar to my nephew Tommy … you speak our language because a parent was a dwarf in the past?" Oh. That explained a lot. She looked over at Tommy Merlyn, who was watching her warily. That meant … oh.

As he spoke, he leaned forward and took her hands, assisting her to her feet, and Lydia tried to form the words she needed to answer him, whether in Westron or in Khuzdul, but her vocabulary wasn't up to the task. It was then that Malcolm Merlyn stepped in, saying softly, "Tell me in English, and I'll relay it to Thorin." Lydia only nodded and began patting herself down, trying to find her cell phone, her hands trembling. Merlyn frowned a bit, but told Thorin that was indeed the case, and then he whispered in English, "What are you doing?"

"Calling … calling someone who needs to hear his king's voice," Lydia answered as she located what she needed and Merlyn's eyes widened. On the second ring, her father answered, and Lydia said, "Daddy? It's Lydia. You remember when you told me that we were Americans and we knelt to no one … no one but a single dwarf? He's here. I'm looking right at him." Thorin frowned, obviously catching no more than a few words. The others, however … they knew. She could see it in the way Merlyn's blue eyes narrowed, could hear it in the way the others (reincarnated dwarrow?) inhaled sharply. She blinked back tears as her father asked brokenly if he could speak to him.

This was where things got tricky. She was aware of Boromir of Gondor, and that the three men in front of her were Thorin, Kili and Fili of the line of Durin. She knew that Boromir had nearly a year to acclimate himself to modern technology. What she didn't know was how long the Durins had to acclimate. Did she hand the phone to Thorin and hope that he knew what he was supposed to do with it, or did she play it safe? Glancing at the slightly bemused expression of the resurrected king before her, she chose the second option. And so, she put her father on speaker phone, and said, "Go ahead, Daddy. Thorin can hear you." Thorin merely looked at the phone curiously, no real wariness. But his expression changed when her father spoke.

She didn't understand much of what he said, as he was speaking in Khuzdul. But Thorin did, and he nearly collapsed before her, breathing, "Bombur?" It was only that, only her father's former name, but it was enough. Her father obviously understood and confirmed that it was he, and oh, he was so glad to hear his king's voice again! And the dam broke … Thorin actually fell to his knees, Khuzdul words flowing out of his mouth and his eyes filling with tears. And he wasn't the only one … his two nephews were babbling excitedly, hugging their uncle as they chattered at Lydia's father. And much to her consternation, Lydia found tears filling her eyes as well. Thank God her daughter wasn't here … or worse, Tom. She'd never hear the end of it.

Thorin's eyes met her own, and Lydia swallowed hard, seeing the fierce determination there. And the only warning she had that someone was walking up behind her was a soft sound, then Malcolm Merlyn was saying softly, "Your father is telling my brother than you are his greatest treasure, his treasure of all treasures, and he's entrusting your safety into Thorin's care. I know, you're a police officer and you don't need anyone to look after you … but you're family now. That's something Thorin takes very seriously."

She should have been angry. After all, she was a grown woman and the captain of this town's police force. But so far as her father was concerned, she was his little girl and she always would be. Really, did she think any differently about her own child? Of course not. When it came to Christine, she was the exact same way, and in her father's position, she would have made the exact same request. However, that didn't stop her from hissing at Merlyn, "Sneak up on me like that again, Merlyn, and you'll be lucky to _just_ get an elbow in the gut."

There was a soft laugh, and Merlyn responded, sounding genuinely amused, "I'd like to see you try, Captain. I really would." Yeah, that wasn't totally creepy or anything. As she turned to face him, she caught sight of her two detectives, watching her worriedly. Rafferty remained locked in her sister's arms, and she relaxed a touch when Lydia smiled at her reassuringly. Merlyn pivoted to face the Rafferty sisters and Gutierrez, adding, "And I've not yet met these two lovely young ladies. Care to introduce us, Charlotte Amalie?"

Rafferty's eyebrows winged into her hairline at the way the businessman addressed her sister, but Carey just rolled her eyes, saying, "Ass. This is my younger sister, Detective Megan Rafferty, and her best friend and partner, Detective Elena Gutierrez. Meg, Elena, this is Malcolm Merlyn, a old friend of mine and a royal pain in the ass. The cutie standing just behind him is his son Tommy. And you've met Thorin, Kili and Fili … sort of. You remember Bronwyn, I'm sure." Rafferty nodded to the auburn-haired lawyer, and her sister went on, "With her is her foster daughter Felicity, and those are the Queen siblings, Oliver and Thea."

"We can talk more later," Rafferty said softly, "let's get you to the Farrell home. We'll work out clothing and such after you've had a chance to rest and relax. Mindy, what do we owe you?" Not surprisingly, Merlyn had to put his two cents in, but Mindy held up her hand and shook her head. Rafferty blinked at her, adding, "Really? I mean, not that it's not appreciated, but …" Merlyn was also starting to protest … what, it was on the house? Could Mindy afford to do that? Yeah, Lydia knew she was doing well, but she hadn't thought she was doing that well.

"He can pay me back later, in terms of advice. For now … for now, we'll just say, that was my welcome to the South and to North Carolina," the young woman replied, inclining her head toward Merlyn, who closed his mouth with a snap. Huh. Lydia got the distinct feeling that was the first time that happened in a long time, if ever. Thorin (who regained his composure while Lydia's back was turned) looked to the two men beside him, and the taller of the two spoke in Khuzdul. Thorin looked from him to Mindy, before bowing deeply to the girl. She responded with a curtsey, and told Merlyn, "I'll let all of you settle in before you come back. I'm a big-time admirer of yours." He smiled at that, inclining his head. Well, this just kept getting more and more interesting by the minute!

LOTRLOTRLOTRLOTR

Her family was coming home to her. _All_ of her family.

She'd awakened in her current life shortly after the birth of her son. She saw in her newborn's face the faces of the children she'd lost in that first lifetime and wept. She couldn't tell anyone at first what was wrong … her husband just squeezed her hand whenever she answered, ' _I don't know_ ' to his query of what was wrong, why she was crying. But it was the first time she'd lied to him. She knew exactly what was wrong, why she was crying. She remembered. She remembered the brothers she lost, she remembered her husband, she remembered her sons, and oh Mahal, she remembered Erebor. Sweet, lost Erebor. She remembered it all.

But she kept that to herself, because just as she knew in time that her son was a reincarnation, as was her grandson … her husband was not. Her husband had not lived before, her husband had not known Erebor or Middle-earth. He had none of her memories, none of her knowledge. And so, she pushed past her tears, as she did so many times in her life. Happily, while her husband wasn't a reincarnate, her father was. He held her as she wept for the brothers and sons she lost, held her and caressed her hair.

And he listened. He listened as she vented her rage with her oldest brother. She didn't begrudge him the lives of her sons … they would not have been kept from his side, not when he'd helped to raise them. No, she begrudged him for leaving her. She should have gone with him, should have pushed instead of backing away. But that was the problem, wasn't it? In the end, she wasn't truly angry with her brother or with her sons or even with her father and grandfather. She was angry with herself. That was something else her father understood.

There was no doubt in the mind of the woman who was once Dis, daughter of Thrain, that had her eldest brother survived the horrific Battle of the Five Armies as it was called, he would have allowed her to rail against him, to scream and beat on his chest, holding her all the while, as he did after their brother Frerin died and their father disappeared. Thorin was all she had left after that ill-fated battle, and in the end, she lost him as well. But Dis was a daughter of Durin, and so she carried out. It was what they did, both the sons and the daughters of that line. They carried on, even when their heart was broken. Dis had the example of her brother for that.

For years, she looked for both of her brothers, for her sons, in the faces of all she met. Her father in this lifetime told her that it was common, especially for newly-awakened reincarnates. He'd died not long after she awakened, and told her of his identity in that long-ago world. A small smile touched her lips … he'd teased her on his deathbed that she was fated to always be the daughter of a king. Daughter of a king, granddaughter of a king, sister of a king, mother to a likely king. He'd known her son in that lifetime, and she wondered many times if he would have recognized her grandson as well.

She'd recognized her father's reborn spirit when it awakened in young Gavin Rafferty (and really, did Francis Rafferty expect anyone to believe that boy was anyone other than his own child?), but said nothing. Just as she'd recognized other spirits, including that of Saruman when he arrived in town. She'd wanted to hate him, knowing how close they'd come to utter catastrophe, but in the end, she just couldn't hate him … and not just because this tired old widow found him impossibly attractive. But, while Lucius Wellington had the memories of Saruman, he wasn't the same person. Anyone with a set of eyes could see that Lucius was utterly devoted to his grandson Jason and great-granddaughter Natalie. And if it occurred to her, more than once, that Jason closely resembled what Thorin would have looked like clean-shaven, why, no one could blame her for missing her beloved brother, could they?

Not at all. And at first, she thought her dreams of Thorin during the past month were a result of that longing, combined with her fears for the safety of Jason and Natalie Wellington in the wake of their kidnapping. But this morning, she'd awakened with the certainty … her brother was awake and alive. Was it Dis who was so very sure of that, or was something else happening? She didn't know. She had no answers and Mahal or Eru weren't explaining themselves to her or anyone else. One thing she did know, however … the recent Balrog attacks were no coincidence, no accident. This was not a simple matter of someone digging up something that should have remained buried by accident and simple curiosity. One, she could have believed, but so many? No. No, this was no accident and she feared what came next.

Regine Farrell sighed quietly. She was driving herself mad with these thoughts. If Thorin was back, as she was so sure he was, did that mean Kili and Fili were back as well? What of the sons of Fundin, Balin and Dwalin? She learned from Gimli, Gloin's son, of Balin's fate in Khazad-dum … Balin, Ori, and Oin. Gimli. Regine smiled to herself. She hadn't made herself known to anyone, aside from her son and grandson, but she'd recognized the brash young dwarf from the moment she'd laid eyes on Ronan Daly. It amused her that so many reincarnated dwarrow were tall in this life. Which begged the question … why _were_ dwarrow being reborn as men? It ran counter not just to their stories, but to every creation story she'd ever heard as Dis. It was something she needed to ponder, but later.

"You need to get to work on those bedrooms, Jeannie," she murmured, "they won't clean themselves." Ordinarily, her boys would have helped her, but Tom was at work, and Brendan had gone to see Boromir of Gondor. Regine's hands stilled. Boromir of Gondor. Not his reincarnation, but the son of the Steward himself. She tried to remember her father's stories about Boromir, who died practically in his arms. Boromir, who had been driving mad by that evil little Ring. Boromir, who was given a second chance. She thought of her beautiful brother, her dear Thorin … who fell to the same gold-sickness that afflicted their grandfather.

Or did he? Granted, she was a child when Erebor fell, but based on what she heard from her brothers and parents, it seemed as if Thror's gold-sickness was a gradual thing. But whatever afflicted her brother, it came on suddenly. Regine shook her head. There was time to consider that later. She tried not to think about the fact that her brother, when next they met, would not recognize her. Why would he? The last time they saw each other, she was a dwarrowdam of middle years. And now? Now, she was staring eighty in the face, and while she knew she was still an attractive woman … she wasn't the Dis whom Thorin or her boys would remember.

But that didn't matter, she told herself as she headed upstairs. It didn't matter, because Thorin and her sons were back. They were back and they were alive, and that was what counted. Not that they wouldn't recognize her, or even possibly not remember Dis. It mattered that they were alive. It mattered that Kili and Fili would have a chance to live to be old men, to fall in love and marry and have children (or not, as the case may be). It mattered that Thorin had a chance to just be a man, without the burdens he'd carried in his life. So much of the responsibility for the care of their people fell on the shoulders of her brother in that life … Regine didn't fool herself into thinking that this life wouldn't carry challenges. The Balrog attacks were proof of that.

The Balrogs, Durin's Bane, the monsters that caused the deaths of Balin, Oin, and Ori during the Third Age. Regine shuddered as her mind returned to that train of thought, because if the Balrogs were returning … then what would come next? Was this a portend of Sauron's return? Regine dearly hoped not. The people of this time were sorely unprepared for such an individual. Too many people misunderstood what evil was, or denied that it existed. Against such a populace, what was Sauron capable of doing? Regine shuddered again, because it didn't bear thinking about. What he'd done in the previous Ages was bad enough, against people who were wary of him. But in this time? There were some that would recognize that Sauron was evil. People who remembered Hitler and his evil Final Solution. But there were so few.

She would fight, Regine decided. She and others who remembered, even if they were small children at the time. She would fight, and perhaps she would die … but she would fight for her son and for her grandson, she would fight because Dis never had that chance. Her boys were coming home to her, and she would fight to make sure that this time … this time, they had the chance to _live_ , not just scrape out a living in whatever way they could. And she would start by dealing with practical matters … the linens needed to be changed, and she could ensure that the bathrooms were at least presentable as well. She didn't know who Lydia was bringing, aside from refugees from Starling City, but in memory of Dis, and those who died when Erebor fell, Regine would open her home to them and provide comfort in whatever way she could.

Everyone had their own way of fighting, after all. This was hers.

TBC

Additional notes: So, Dis has made her appearance … I considered several possibilities for the reincarnation of Kili and Fili's mother, including Ailsa Rafferty and Lydia Anders. But in the end, I went with Regine Dennison Farrell, because her father Richard was the reincarnation of a king (Aragorn's reincarnation before Gavin), and it appealed to my sense of symmetry. And yes, you are seeing the groundwork being laid for a love story between Lucius and Regine. Speaking of Lucius, Saruman's spirit will be making more of an appearance as it becomes more apparent that Sauron really is back. Enough of that, though-in the next chapter, we'll be returning to Boromir and his courting. Oh, and just to clear something up … Boromir was under the impression that there was no courting in the modern era, only dating. He was startled to learn that courting _does_ exist.


End file.
